


Take (Care of) Me

by ParadiseAvenger



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aftercare, Double Anal Penetration, Gang Rape, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape Aftermath, Self-Sacrifice, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27546862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseAvenger/pseuds/ParadiseAvenger
Summary: Illumi was still standing in Killua’s space, fingering the bloody needle he had pulled out of Killua’s throat. His black eyes were emotionless, even though it was clear he was listening to every scrap of emotion in Killua’s voice. He already suspected how much Gon mattered to Killua, but this would confirm just how much Killua cared. Killua had never once voluntarily agreed to be violated, even under weeks of torture, yet here he was agreeing to take not one but two cruelties.Killua’s skin crawled when Illumi glanced at him knowingly. “Gon doesn't need to take anything,” Killua insisted. “I'll take you both.”
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 35
Kudos: 139





	1. Take One

I actually wrote this before I finished 'A Little Space.' First half, all hurt—second half, all comfort so hang in there.

XXX

It seemed like a harmless shortcut. The forest was vibrant and there was even a well-used footpath for them to follow. Sunlight streamed through the thick branches overhead, tinting everything in the greenery of new life and dappling the ground with warm patches. Interesting flowers bloomed alongside the winding pathway and the gentle breeze was perfumed with their scent.

Gon was immediately excited, babbling at Killua as he bounded between outcroppings of the modish black-and-white flowers. “These are panda lilies!” he said delightedly, practically shouting. “They only bloom once every five years!”

Startled by his volume, a flock of brown finches took flight nearby.

Killua watched them go, one hand shading his sapphire eyes. The sunlight shone on their feathers and their shadows danced on the high grass before they disappeared from view. The forest was thick and peaceful, the day was stunning, and Gon was happy. Killua should have known better.

“They’re one of the most fragrant blossoms in the world. Here, smell.” Gon plucked one gently, cradled the flower in his hand, and thrust it close to Killua’s face.

The perfume was intoxicating, sweet and savory all at once. The flower itself was stunning, all bright whites and sharp blacks with red-tinted leaves. Killua caught himself wondering if it was poisonous, if he had already seen or smelled or tasted this beautiful plant in a more vile form. However, Gon was smiling at him and he chased the thought away. He leaned in just enough to sniff it, feeling the pollen tickle his nose.

“It’s nice,” Killua agreed.

Gon huffed as though Killua was some kind of cretin who couldn’t appreciate beauty, took a good sniff of the flower, and then tucked the bloom behind Killua’s ear. The petals were partly lost against the white of Killua’s hair, but the stem and darker parts stood out. “There,” Gon remarked with a grin.

His touch was light and quick, just grazing his hair and the shell of his ear, but it still sent a shiver through Killua’s entire body. Killua’s cheeks warmed in a way that had nothing to do with the sun. “Idiot,” he managed. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Gon ignored him, bobbing ahead to examine the tracks left by some wandering animal of unknown origins and chattering all the while.

Killua trailed behind his friend, drunk on the sun and the flowers and the timbre Gon’s voice. He should have known better.

“It’s quiet,” Gon said suddenly. He paused, face turned into the wind like a beast on the hunt.

Killua stopped too, stretching out his senses, but he couldn’t feel anyone nearby and he couldn’t smell anything over the perfume of the panda lilies.

“Where are all the animals?” Gon asked. “We haven’t seen any since we started walking.”

“You probably scared them all off,” Killua remarked, “with all the shouting you’ve been doing.”

“Maybe,” Gon murmured, but he didn’t look convinced. He had a hand on his chin, honey-brown eyes scanning the foliage, ears perked to listen.

Killua should have known better, should have listened to Gon’s instincts, should have insisted they take the long way to their destination. Instead, he just said, “Come on. Let’s keep going. I’m starving.”

Gon’s face lit up with the mention of food. They hadn’t eaten since breakfast and it was midafternoon already. All they had to do was make it through this cheerful forest, out the other side, and they’d be in the next town. Killua didn’t have a lot of jenny left, but it was certainly plenty for a good lunch. Gon jogged to catch up with him, grinning like a fool. Killua smiled too as the sunlight washed over Gon’s features and caught on his smile.

Killua was content, his heart was light, and he should have known better.

Something moved in his peripherals. An animal? It was a dark shape, crouched in the underbrush, not hiding, just lying in wait. A predator then, Killua thought, but no wolf or bear was a threat to them. Neither was a common bandit, should one think that two kids would be an easy mark. They would be fine.

Killua should have known—

Hisoka unfolded from the brush. His smile was stretched broad and thin. His golden eyes were sharp, his mussed hair was the exact color of blood, and his makeup was perfect despite the heat of the day. He moved too fast for the eye to follow. In an instant, he caught Gon by the wrist, twisted his arm behind his back, and jerked him against his chest. He banded one strong arm across Gon’s body while two fingers flicked the sharpened edge of a card to Gon’s windpipe. It happened in a split-second.

Gon didn’t even have a chance to cry out.

“Gon!” Killua shouted. His muscles tensed to fight.

Smirking, Hisoka pressed the card against Gon’s skin and a line of ruby-dark blood welled along it.

Gon winced, his head lurching aside at the sting of broken skin.

Killua’s legs coiled to spring to his friend’s aid—maybe he could knock Hisoka off balance enough that Gon could get away.

“Ah, ah,” Hisoka said to Killua chidingly. “You’ll get your turn for cuddles.”

Killua didn’t have a chance to ask what Hisoka meant by that.

In another blinding-fast movement, Illumi dropped from the canopy of branches overhead and landed directly behind Killua. The ground cracked at the impact, kicking up a cloud of dust. Killua reacted in an instant, surging forward, dodging away from Illumi’s grasping hands. His vision tunneled, focused only on avoiding the stream of gold needles eating up the earth at his feet.

Suddenly, Gon yelped. The sound was uncharacteristically high and pained.

Killua faltered, his blue eyes flicking from his brother to his friend.

Hisoka angled the card on Gon’s neck, drew more blood, and absolutely grinned. He kept Gon pinned flush against him, stretched to his full height so that Gon’s feet dangled far from the ground. The waistband of Gon’s green shorts had been sliced, the fabric loosening and slipping down his skin to show his underwear. Hisoka smiled wickedly, hungrily, sickly.

Killua stopped dead. His heart thudded raggedly behind the cage of his ribs.

Hisoka’s threat was clear.

Illumi’s needles framed Killua’s sneakers without cutting through the material. He could have skewered Killua whenever he liked, but he was choosing to play instead. They were cornered, trapped, immobilized—there was no escape. Killua should have known better. He should have realized the second Hisoka emerged, the moment Illumi joined them, the moment the shortcut had been placed in Gon’s sights. His chest heaved he tried to catch his breath. Sweat beaded on his forehead and along the back of his neck.

Gon was just staring at him, honeyed eyes wide with shock while one shaking hand clutched uselessly at Hisoka’s wrist.

Killua swallowed several times, fighting the nausea that churned in his guts. “What do you want?” he demanded when he was sure his voice wouldn’t break.

“From you?” Hisoka remarked. He gave a little chuckle and a deranged smile that made his golden eyes crinkle at the corners. “Maybe just an audience.”

Killua’s nerves prickled, the hairs on his body rising with apprehension. His heart thunked hollowly.

Illumi stepped closer, picking up his needles casually as he approached. Killua didn’t let himself step backwards, even when Illumi began to gather the needles around his feet. Purposefully, Illumi’s cold hands brushed against the insides of Killua’s ankles and calves. Goosebumps broke out on Killua’s skin despite the midday heat and warm sunshine. He swallowed the knot in his throat, but it only fell to thrash in his roiling stomach. Illumi stood back, needles between his long fingers, just looking at his little brother.

“Illumi,” Killua began.

Illumi tossed the needle swiftly. The tiny sharp point sank into the meat of Killua’s left elbow, right into the soft and vulnerable bend where his veins were visible. His entire arm went numb, the gold orb jutting out of his flesh like crude jewelry. Killua didn’t cry out, despite the surprise of the attack. The pain was insignificant considering all he had been through at Illumi’s hands already, but the warning was enough to make his teeth grind together.

“Apologies,” Killua said and altered his tone, “Big Brother.”

Illumi’s smile curved, but his eyes remained dark and fathomless. Nothing ever seemed to truly make him happy—even breaking Killua’s resolve.

“What can I do for you?” Killua continued. He let his left arm dangle at his side, the needle sticking out of his flesh. A single drop of blood welled at the needle’s base and began to ooze down his forearm.

“Hisoka wanted to,” Illumi’s dark eyes flicked to Hisoka as he searched for the right word, “ _expend_ some energy with Gon so we tracked you two down. I thought while they were together, you and I could _reunite_ as well.”

A renewed chill shot through Killua’s insides, lining his stomach with spires of ice. He bit his tongue hard against the wave of revulsion that started at his core and worked its way up into his throat.

“Killua?” Gon asked. His voice was small, innocent, frightened. “What are they talking about?”

Killua glanced at Gon and saw that Hisoka was rubbing against him, hips undulating, smile unflinching. Gon’s shorts were sliding lower and lower, revealing the jutting bone of his hip and the elastic of his white briefs.

Illumi flicked another needle, sinking this one into the flesh of Killua’s upper shoulder just below his collarbone. Pain reared through Killua’s joint, but nothing vital had been struck. The wound wasn’t even interested in bleeding. He forced himself to look away from Gon, to focus once again on his brother’s expressionless face.

“Don’t you miss me, Kil?” Illumi asked. “Don’t you want to spend time with your big brother?”

“Of course, brother,” Killua agreed, “but what about Gon and Hisoka?”

Illumi glanced icily at Hisoka. “I already told him that he couldn’t have you.”

Killua swallowed, his throat burning with acid.

“I don’t want him anyway,” Hisoka remarked. “I have all I want right here.” His big hand traveled down Gon’s chest, the sharpened card still caught between two fingers, and cupped Gon’s crotch firmly.

Gon yelped, thrashing and wriggling like a hooked fish against Hisoka’s hold. His shorts slid almost completely down, catching around his squirming knees. His underwear was white against his tanned skin.

“Stop!” Killua half-shouted.

Illumi sank another needle into him, this one at the base of his throat. Hot blood beaded at its bottom, welling up and then dripping slowly down Killua’s chest to soak into his shirt.

Killua couldn’t breathe past the needle in his windpipe. When he tried to speak again, his voice came out a rasp, “Don’t hurt Gon.”

“A little pain is necessary,” Hisoka remarked with a smirk. “It makes the pleasure that much sweeter.”

“Brother?” Killua croaked. “Please.”

Illumi took the ball of the needle between his cold fingers, nails brushing the fragile skin over Killua’s throat. He pulled it out slowly, teasing the needle through the hole punched in Killua’s flesh. It ached, but not half as much as the sight of Hisoka still casually groping and fondling Gon while he struggled.

“Killua,” Gon managed.

The needle slid out of Killua’s neck. He could breathe and speak again.

Illumi was standing so close, his larger frame looming possessively over Killua.

“I’ll get you off,” Killua told Hisoka.

Hisoka hummed thoughtfully in his chest, flicking at Gon through his underwear.

Gon yelped and squirmed, his face growing red with shame and fear at Hisoka’s touches.

Illumi twisted a needle between his fingers. “I’ll not wait for my time with you, Kil,” he said plainly. His black eyes were a void, swallowing all the light in the forest. “I’ll have you now.”

Killua didn’t say anything. His chest was tight, his breath came short, and his heart was thundering. His vision narrowed in on Gon, writhing in Hisoka’s grasp. His underwear and thighs were exposed, even though Killua had seen both before, this felt wrong. Hisoka touching him felt wrong, so wrong. “I’ll take care of you first, brother, and then I’ll get you off, Hisoka.”

“No deal,” Hisoka said lamely. “I don’t think I can wait that long. I’m positively bursting already.” He pressed Gon into his arousal, smirking over the boy’s shoulder.

Gon cried out, twisting desperately. “Killua—”

“Quiet, Gon,” Killua said flatly. His mind was a whirlwind. “Fine,” he said finally. “You don’t have to wait. I’ll take you both right now.”

Illumi licked his lips. “Both? At the same time?”

“Yes,” Killua confirmed.

Hisoka murmured while he thought, gripping Gon by the hip and rocking against him. Gon continued to thrash, kicking and bucking in Hisoka’s grip. The wound on his neck was already scabbing over, but the card was still gripped threateningly in Hisoka’s fingers. Hisoka opened his mouth and bit into the exposed junction of Gon’s neck and shoulder. It was a love-bite that didn’t even break the skin, but Gon cried out all the same.

Killua’s heart turned to ice. “Stop,” he demanded.

“Are you sure about this?” Hisoka asked, licking the taste of Gon’s sweat off his lips. “Taking both of us will certainly rip your little body apart. It would be easier if you let Gon take one.”

Illumi was still standing in Killua’s space, fingering the bloody needle he had pulled out of Killua’s throat. His black eyes were emotionless, even though it was clear he was listening to every scrap of emotion in Killua’s voice. He already suspected how much Gon mattered to Killua, but this would confirm just how much Killua cared. Killua had never once voluntarily agreed to be violated, even under weeks of torture, yet here he was agreeing to take not one but two cruelties.

Killua’s skin crawled when Illumi glanced at him knowingly. “Gon doesn't need to take anything,” Killua insisted. “I'll take you both.”

Hisoka chuckled, his fingers dancing along the strip of Gon’s bared stomach below his shirt.

Killua's eyes caught on the ribbon of caramel skin that Gon’s falling underwear revealed. Gon had a tan line, a place where even the sun hadn't kissed him, and Killua certainly wasn't going to let Hisoka or Illumi be the first ones to touch Gon there. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Killua,” Gon protested. His voice quavered despite the bravado on his face. He clutched Hisoka’s forearm with both hands, legs kicking. “Don't. Not if it'll really hurt you.”

“Oh,” Hisoka remarked. His tone was casual, even as the edge of his card cut into Gon's white underwear so that it slipped treacherously lower. “Well, I can’t say I’m not interested. What do you think, Illumi?”

“Kil is used to pain,” Illumi remarked and pocketed his bloody needle. He reached out and tightened his hand casually around Killua's forearm just below the needle in his elbow. Despite the numbing pain, Killua felt the bone threaten to snap beneath his brother’s hand. The touch was a warning and Killua stayed completely still while Illumi stripped him.

The white shirt and shorts fell like down feathers at his feet, shredded like wet paper by Illumi’s sharp fingers, followed by strips of cobalt from his undershirt and the black material of his underwear. Illumi even used needles to ruin his sneakers. Totally exposed, Killua stood in the ruin of his clothing and shivered despite the warm sunlight on his bare skin.

Hisoka smiled, showing his teeth. “Quite beautiful.”

Gon’s honey-brown eyes welled with tears. It looked like he said Killua’s name, but Killua couldn’t be sure over the ringing in his ears.

Illumi ran a possessive hand down Killua’s back, shifting around behind him to press Killua’s naked body backwards against his chest much in the same way Hisoka was holding Gon. He used his foot to kick Killua’s legs apart and Killua knew better than to try to cover himself. Killua let his body be manipulated without complaint, his blue eyes focused only on Gon.

“However,” Illumi hissed in Killua’s ear, “Mother and I never trained you here.” His wicked finger slid lower, between Killua’s cheeks, pressed through the tight ring, and then curled inside.

Killua's carefully blank facade cracked. It had been so long—he had been away from home, away from his family, away from the dungeons and the tortures and the poisons. It hurt more than he had expected, more than it should for one slim finger, and he was planning to take both Hisoka and Illumi.

“I think you'll find it harder than expected, Kil,” Illumi continued. His voice slithered into Killua’s ear, into his mind, into his heart. “But I suspect you already knew that.”

Hisoka chuckled again, his golden eyes dancing with mirth.

“Killua,” Gon said again. His face was alive with emotion, some heady mixture of fear and pain and determination. He clawed at Hisoka’s grip. “We can share. You don't have to—”

“Shut up,” Killua snapped. He was worried that if Gon kept offering, his shaky resolve would completely fracture. “I can take both. So do your worst, you fucking sickos.”

Hisoka laughed then, a full belly-laugh that shook his shoulders and his hips. His card glanced along Gon's throat again, drawing another line of blood.

Illumi didn't make a sound at first. Then, he said, “Nothing ever did break your spirit, Kil. Perhaps this finally will.”

The hair stood up along Killua's neck, a creeping unease that spread through his scalp and down his spine. It settled at his core, pooling around the dry aching finger that Illumi wasn't even moving yet. “I'll be fine,” he said to Gon. He was pleased that his voice sounded stronger than he felt. “Pain is nothing.”

Gon didn’t look like he believed Killua, but further protests were silenced when Hisoka put his card away. Smoothly, he attached Bungee Gum to Gon’s wrists and secured them both behind his back. Then, he attached the Bungee Gum to the base of a nearby tree. Gon’s shorts were still tangled around his knees and his shirt was rucked up, but he met Hisoka’s stare with defiance.

“Just sit here and watch,” Hisoka said. His palm rested lightly on Gon’s bare thigh, nails scraping idly, and then he secured Gon’s ankles too. “This Bungee Gum will release when I reach orgasm,” Hisoka said and dragged his tongue across his lower lip. “Then you'll have another chance to try to help your friend.”

Gon swallowed something hot and bitter.

Hisoka straightened up and crossed the little clearing to stand in front of Killua. He loosened the front of his trousers as he walked, opening them to pull out his weeping shaft.

Killua glanced at it, mentally taking stock of Hisoka’s size, and then he closed his eyes again. It was big, too big, and there was no way he was getting out of this uninjured.

Hisoka pressed a finger to the middle of Killua’s pale chest, tracing a meandering path up over the lines of his muscles, across his nipples, and then settling beneath the needle at his collarbone. Hisoka pulled it out smoothly, handing it over to Illumi. Then, he removed the one in Killua’s elbow and licked the blood off it. “Tasty,” he remarked.

“Why did you pull them out?” Illumi asked as he put away his needles.

“There’s only one person about to get pricked here,” Hisoka said, “and it isn’t going to be me.”

Killua swallowed, flexing his fingers subtly as the feeling returned to his left arm.

“Fair enough,” Illumi said. His finger was still buried inside Killua’s body, a hard dry presence, but he dragged it slowly out.

Hisoka watched, one hand wrapped around his cock while the other tapped his chin. “We need a little moisture.”

“Kil’s blood will be fine,” Illumi said lightly.

“No,” Hisoka murmured. Then, he grinned and made a little ‘turn around’ motion with his finger.

Curiously, Illumi stepped backwards to give Hisoka space.

Killua remained rooted in the spot, his hands at his sides, naked and shivering. His bare toes curled on the dirt. He could feel Gon watching him and tried to maintain a brave face. Goosebumps broke out on his chest and shoulders, rising along his thighs and lower back. He wanted to cover himself, but didn’t want Hisoka or Illumi to have the satisfaction of knowing that he dreaded every second of this.

When he didn’t move immediately, Hisoka cocked his hip and grimaced dramatically. “You don’t have to take it, but I’m doing you a favor,” Hisoka said. “Now, turn around.”

Killua finally did, turning to put his back to Hisoka and Gon.

Illumi was standing there, watching him with those black eyes.

“Spread yourself,” Hisoka said.

Killua bristled. “As if—”

“Or don’t,” Hisoka interrupted. He idly stroked himself, the tip flushed red and dripping. “It’s all the same to me, but I suppose we’d both prefer if your body wasn’t totally destroyed.”

Those words rocketed down Killua’s spine like a dagger, bouncing off his bones and nerves. Shakily, he grasped his cheeks and opened himself up to Hisoka. Shame clogged his throat, burning hot and stinging. Illumi was just staring at him, idly twisting a needle between his fingers. Hisoka crouched behind Killua, his breath brushing the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. His big hand flattened against Killua’s lower back, pushing him forward slightly. Then, something wet and warm lapped the crease of Killua’s backside.

Startled, Killua jumped forward and whirled to face Hisoka in shock. Now, he couldn’t stop from clasping his hands over his exposed skin, desperate to hide.

“You’d put your mouth there?” Illumi remarked abruptly. “That’s so dirty.”

Killua didn’t think he could possibly feel more shame and disgust, but a renewed wave ignited inside his chest. He didn’t allow himself to look at Gon. He didn’t want to know what his friend was thinking, what kind of face he was making, what he thought of Killua now. He swallowed the sharp bile building in his throat, staring at Hisoka.

Hisoka licked his lips. “It’s not so bad,” he said. Then, to Killua, he beckoned with a wave, “Come back. I wasn’t finished.”

“That’s enough,” Killua forced out. “Just get it over with.”

“Now, now,” Hisoka remarked. “Don’t let Illumi get inside your head like that. Come back so I can finish what I started.”

Killua didn’t move.

“Unless you’d prefer we tear your body to pieces when we have you,” Hisoka continued.

Killua bit his lip, unwilling to let his eyes flick to Hisoka’s size. Horror was building up in his chest and throat, searing hot like an ember.

“Killua,” Gon said suddenly. His voice was small.

Hisoka’s body blocked Killua’s view of Gon, but he immediately noticed the way Killua tensed further at his friend’s voice. “Would you rather have Gon lick you? That can be arranged.”

White-hot humiliation boiled inside Killua, clogging his throat and digging into his stomach with razor-sharp claws. Illumi had said it was _dirty_ and Killua knew that it was. The last thing Killua wanted was for Gon to be the one to put his mouth there, to lick him, to _taste_ him.

“No,” Killua said quickly. “You do it.”

Hisoka lifted a red brow mockingly. “Oh?”

Killua’s throat closed, but he didn’t want Gon involved. To keep Gon out of this, to keep Gon safe, to protect Gon—he would do anything. “Please,” he managed. “I want you to… lick me.”

Hisoka could have pressed, could have made it harder, could have made Killua spell it out until the embarrassment was too much. Illumi certainly would have, but Hisoka was in some ways more merciful than Illumi. He nodded thoughtfully and then gestured for Killua to turn around.

Killua didn’t try to look at Gon. He turned again, putting his back to Hisoka, and spread his cheeks with his hands. The perfumed breeze now felt like an invasion, like a cold hand on his most hidden places, touching softly, drying the spit and sweat on his skin. Hisoka crouched again, the back of his hand skating along Killua’s inner thigh briefly. Killua slammed his eyes shut and focused only on breathing steadily in through his nose and out through his mouth.

Hisoka fastened his lips to Killua’s entrance, his teeth and tongue ravishing him like a particularly-tasty treat. He nipped and nibbled, sucked and lapped. His tongue wriggled and squirmed, pressing in and open, slobbering gratuitously until Killua could feel his saliva dripping off. He breathed through the revulsion, through the thought of Hisoka’s tongue inside him, through the knowledge that Gon was watching only a few feet away. Hisoka widened his entrance, dragging his teeth over the skin until Killua thought he would bite.

Finally, with a satisfied groan that made Killua’s heart skip, Hisoka sat back on his heels. “That should be good enough,” he remarked. “Unless you want me to continue?”

Killau shuddered. His butt and thighs were wet and sticky with saliva dripping down his skin. “No,” he managed. “That’s enough.”

Illumi stepped into Killua’s space, looming over him monstrously, but he couldn’t back up without running into Hisoka. Wordlessly, Illumi grasped Killua’s hip and then slid his fingers through the copious moisture Hisoka had smeared all over him. Illumi fit two fingers into Killua’s body easily, flexing them apart, opening Killua with a wet squelch.

“Feels better, right?” Hisoka said lightly.

Illumi gave a little shrug. “For who, though?”

Hisoka didn’t answer.

Killua shuddered, his fingers twitching, nails biting into his palms, as Illumi casually stretched and worked his tight entrance further. Already, he could feel Hisoka’s spit drying. It wouldn’t be long before it hurt all over again. “Can we just get this over with?” he demanded.

Illumi speared in a third finger, digging deeply. “That’s the wrong attitude to have, Kil.”

Killua gritted his teeth.

“I agree,” Hisoka said suddenly. “I can’t wait any longer.”

Killua fought the urge to be grateful.

Illumi hummed, his flat black eyes giving nothing away as he worked a fourth finger into Killua. Pressed flush against Illumi, Killua could feel his erection developing.

“You be the anchor,” Hisoka told Illumi.

“No,” he said coldly. He withdrew his hand and glowered distastefully at his wet fingers.

Killua looked away. His inner muscles were twitching with tension.

“Come on,” Hisoka pressed. “If I anchor, I won’t be able to look at Gon and what’s the fun in that.”

Illumi glanced at Gon who was still slumped at the base of the tree where Hisoka had secured him with Bungee Gum. His amber eyes were bright with intensity, neck craned as he tried check on Killua, lower lip bitten with worry. “Fine,” Illumi relented to Hisoka, if only because he wanted Killua to see Gon’s face too. Illumi stretched out on the forest floor, his back bumped uncomfortably over some roots and ruts. He loosened his trousers and unleased his arousal. It rolled over Killua like a wave of bloodlust and Illumi saw his little brother shiver.

Killua didn’t move, frozen in place now that he could feel Illumi’s desire.

Hisoka was still standing between him and Gon, blocking Killua’s view. He grasped Killua’s narrow shoulders and guided him to step over Illumi’s prone form. “Down you go,” he said conversationally. “It’ll be easier if you do it yourself.”

Killua’s legs trembled, but he stepped over Illumi. Wordlessly, he lowered himself, bracing his hands on Illumi’s covered chest. The erection was hard and unforgiving, thick and long. Killua already knew that he would practically taste it in the back of his throat once Illumi was fully-seated. He didn’t want to think about what it would feel like once Hisoka joined too. Biting his lip, Killua slid down slowly, taking in inch after inch. The stretch was still painful, regardless of Hisoka’s preparations.

When he had swallowed Illumi about halfway, he came to a shaky stop. His eyes burned with unshed tears. His legs trembled to support his weight, to stop him from crashing down, from impaling himself on Illumi’s shaft. His brother’s black eyes watched Killua’s struggle without sympathy. He offered neither help nor hindrance. It was all on Killua to take him in, to do it to himself.

Hisoka sighed. “Hurry up.”

Killua jolted. Between Hisoka’s legs, he could see a glimpse of Gon’s green clothing and bronze skin. He looked sharply away, steeling himself to take the final few inches. Then, without warning, Hisoka put a hand on Killua’s shoulder and pushed. Killua’s legs went out from under him and he landed hard on Illumi’s cock, impaled like an animal for slaughter. He gasped, fingers biting into Illumi’s shirt. His eyes stung and he realized he had bitten through his lip. The taste of blood was bitter and burning.

“Sorry,” Hisoka said blandly. “I couldn’t wait.” Then, he circled around Killua and Illumi, coming up behind them so that his view of Gon was uninhibited.

Now that he had moved, all Killua could see was Gon. His friend was looking at him earnestly, big eyes wide with horror and jaw set with tension. He tried to give Killua a smile, but Killua looked away quickly. He stared at his white-knuckled hands instead where he was gripping Illumi’s needle-studded shirt. He couldn’t look at Gon—not now, not when he had given himself to their enemies, not when he was about to be filled to the brim with them.

Hisoka knelt behind Killua, his legs fitting neatly over Illumi’s, and his shaft felt like a brand when it bumped against Killua’s lower back. Hisoka fit a finger in alongside Illumi’s buried shaft, wriggling it curiously. “You’re so tight,” he remarked. “You’d better relax or you’re going to rip apart at the seams.”

Killua made a conscious effort to relax his muscles, exhaling shakily.

Hisoka forced in a second finger and groaned delightedly. “I can’t wait,” he murmured. Then, he dug his fingers into Killua’s hips and dragged him backwards. The head of his shaft bumped alongside Illumi’s and then he was forcing his way inside. The pressure was steady and parts of Killua were still slick enough that he was able to make his way inside inch by painful inch. Killua screwed his eyes shut, resisting the urge to bite his already-injured lip. Illumi was silent beneath him, unmoving, pensive almost. Hisoka groaned and grunted, working his hips as he impaled Killua.

Killua’s muscles started to scream, stretching to the breaking point. It was dry and Hisoka was so big and Illumi was already inside and it had been so long since anyone had forced Killua to take something there. He felt his core give out. There was a moment of blinding agony. Then, it became easier, wetter, hotter, and worse all at once.

“Ah,” Hisoka murmured. “You’re torn.”

Killua tasted blood. He could smell it and feel it dripping between their bodies.

“I’ve missed this, Kil,” Illumi said conversationally. His hands came up to grip Killua’s hips, pulling him down while he grinded up into him.

The edges of Killua’s vision darkened, tunneling in.

“If you pass out,” Hisoka whispered against the shell of his ear before giving it a little nip, “I’ll have Gon instead and your brother will take you back home.”

Killua fought back to awareness, shuddering when he felt Hisoka press a kiss to the back of his shoulder. The suggestion of teeth and tongue made his skin crawl and flush.

“Good boy,” Hisoka murmured.

Then, Hisoka began to thrust. He dragged out slowly, letting Killua feel every inch of his thick shaft and every millimeter of his own ravaged body. Then, he snapped back inside in a way that made Killua’s bones rattle. If he thought it had hurt before, that was nothing compared to the pain now that they were moving. Killua’s entire body was alight with anguish. It was worse than being hung and whipped and poisoned and burned and submerged. His organs felt like they were being shredded from the inside out.

He knotted his hands into fists, his claws threatening to rip through his palms. He momentarily entertained the idea of thrusting his claws into Illumi’s chest, but he knew such an attempt would be pointless. Even if he did manage to hurt Illumi, Gon was still imprisoned and Hisoka was still inside him. He wouldn’t be able to get away. The best he could do right now was simply endure. Killua breathed out shakily, forcing the snarled muscles in his lower body to relax and open. There was more pain, more blood. Hisoka’s thrusts started getting easier, sliding in and out of Killua’s tight body.

Killua focused on his breaths, counting them, trying to pick the scent of the panda lilies out of the air again. All he could smell was Illumi and Hisoka and salt and blood. His eyes burned. His throat was too tight. His lip ached where he had bitten through it. Still, he breathed through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to endure, just endure.

“Go on, Kil,” Illumi said suddenly. “Let’s show Gon the filthy face you’re making.”

Killua’s careful focus snapped. The pain rushed back over him, crashing like a tidal wave, dragging him under the waves, smothering him, suffocating him.

Hisoka fisted a hand in Killua’s hair, dragging his head backwards.

The bones in Killua’s neck strained as he struggled, but Hisoka was too strong. Instead, he cast his eyes upwards to the sky. The sunlight burned, made his eyes water, and that was easier than admitting that he was about to cry. The pain was incredible and Hisoka was still moving inside him.

“Look,” Hisoka whispered, tugging at Killua’s soft hair. “Look at Gon.” He groaned delightedly and redoubled his efforts, practically breaking Killua’s pelvis with the force of his thrusts.

Illumi gripped Killua’s hips and gave a few rocking stabs.

Killua gasped for breath, trying not to pass out as flames licked through his lower body. His airway was tight from the pressure on his neck. Finally, he couldn’t stand it any longer. He gave in and let Hisoka manipulate his head, turning his face towards Gon. He kept his damp eyes shut for another moment. Then, he felt the threat of his brother’s hand at his waist and opened his eyes.

Gon’s face was stricken, but he quickly forced a wobbling smile across his mouth. The edges of his eyes crinkled with worry.

Killua couldn’t look away, but he could close his eyes.

Hisoka bent low, rasping his teeth along the back of Killua’s neck in a parody of a kiss. He caught Gon’s eyes over Killua’s shoulder and smirked as he threatened to bite the tender skin.

Gon steeled himself, twisting his burning wrists against the Bungee Gum.

Hisoka stared at Gon mockingly, dragging his tongue up the side of Killua’s throat and then nipping his ear with a smirk.

Killua flinched, the edge of his jaw clenching as he turned away. His cheeks were flushed and his mouth was bloody. His skin glistened with sweat and his pulse jumped in his throat, straining against the pressure of Hisoka jerking his head back by his silky white hair.

Killua looked small sandwiched between Hisoka and Illumi. There was so much pale skin on display—Hisoka's defined pale muscles where his pants hung low, Illumi's slim white figure through his open shirt, and Killua's fine porcelain body. Dimly, Gon realized that he could see a splash of color. A smudge of red was moving in and out of view, sliding in and out of _Killua_ —it was Killua's blood. Gon's heart stopped and he strained against the Bungee Gum on his wrists. All he wanted was to scoop Killua up and run as far and as fast as he could. Tears burned in his eyes, but he swallowed them. If Killua happened to pry his eyes open again and glance at his friend for support, Gon wanted to be there for him.

Killua’s breath came in stuttering jerks. His thighs trembled to support his weight while Hisoka jackhammered into him from behind. The pain had plateaued. It was no longer unbearable, not to someone used to torture the way he was. Killua managed a deep breath, his vision clearing at the edges. He kept his hands braced on Illumi’s chest, resisting each of Hisoka’s thrusts slightly.

Without warning, Illumi flicked out a needle and dragged it down Killua’s white chest. Killua hissed, more from surprise than pain. Illumi’s expression didn’t change as he scraped a fine path, drawing pinpricks of blood wherever he chose to press the needle more deeply. He poked Killua’s nipple warningly.

Killua stopped even that tiny resistance, that attempt to brace himself, the whitening of his knuckles. He opened himself up, gave himself over, let Hisoka pound the breath from his chest. Blood was slick between his thighs, dripping onto Illumi and splattering against Hisoka. However, it seemed that he had ripped as much as he was going to. They fit inside him easily now, moving against each other.

Hisoka groaned in bliss behind Killua, raising goosebumps on his arms.

Gon felt the Bungee Gum around his wrists loosening. Hisoka must have been getting close to reaching his peak, about to orgasm. The thought made nausea turn over in Gon’s stomach. He tugged and managed to free himself from the tree trunk, even though the bonds were still strong around his wrists and ankles.

When the Bungee Gum finally snapped, Gon would have an opportunity to try to rescue Killua, but… how? If he attacked Hisoka or Illumi and they reacted, they were both buried inside Killua's body. Who knew what that sudden movement would do to Killua? Gon thought again of the bright redness he had seen moving in and out of view, in and out of Killua. Killua was already hurt and he had decided to take both of them on in order to spare Gon. Gon needed to do everything in his power to keep Killua from being hurt further. He couldn't attack. He knew he wouldn't win against them in one blow and anything less than that would just hurt Killua more.

Instead, he crawled, scooting along the grass on his chin and knees until he was close enough to see the beads of sweat and blood on Killua's white skin. He couldn't attack, he couldn't save Killua, but maybe he could help in another way. “Killua,” Gon murmured. “I’m here.”

Hisoka cracked open one golden eye, glancing where Gon was lying on his belly like a grub to the left of Illumi's shoulder. A shudder ran through him, vibrating deep into Killua.

“Killua, I'm right here,” Gon repeated.

Killua trembled, muscles tightening and then trying in vain to banish the intruders forcing their ways into him. “I know, idiot,” he managed. His voice was high and strained, weaker than he expected. His throat felt as raw as his insides.

Hisoka reached around and gripped Killua's small flagging cock. The tip of his pinky nail pressed into the slit.

Killua winced, a tiny sound escaping him.

Gon shot Hisoka a ferocious glare even from his position in the dirt. “You don't have to hurt him more,” he snapped. “Let go!”

Hisoka loosened his grip. He was buried to the hilt inside Killua, feeling his young muscles working around his aching shaft. Now that Gon was so close, Hisoka could smell the object of his affections. He could hear his voice, look upon his face, almost taste his breath, and it was delicious. Hisoka closed his eyes and let the fantasy sweep him away. He groaned, snapping his hips one final hard time against Killua's reddened flesh, as he spilled into him.

Killua jolted and shivered with revulsion. Hisoka’s hot seed seeped out and ran along his inner thighs, burning the wounds inside him. He was stretched too much to hold it in.

The Bungee Gum around Gon’s wrists snapped and his ankles came free. Blood rushed back into his hands and feet, tingling, as he quickly pulled his limbs underneath him and sat up.

Hisoka groaned in delight, milking the few final spurts out with his hand. His remaining seed jetted up Killua’s naked back and into his mussed hair. His eyes were closed as he shuddered all over in pleasure, licking his lips as he tucked himself back into his trousers. Blood was splattered all around his hips from Killua’s ravaged body.

Killua let his breath out hard, relieved to be free of one shaft inside him. He practically crumpled, arms shaking on Illumi’s chest.

Hisoka grasped Killua’s hair again, smeared his seed into the soft locks, and grinned.

Gon bit his lip to stop himself from yelling at Hisoka. Instead, he insisted, “Let him go. You’ve hurt him enough.”

Hisoka withdrew, folding his arms over his chest. He watched silently as Illumi began to move inside Killua, rocking up into his small body. The wet sounds were obscene, mingled now with both Killua’s blood and Hisoka’s seed. Killua shuddered, revolted. The wetness was almost worse than the pain. Gon remained on his knees beside Illumi’s shoulder, close enough to offer some ghost of comfort to his friend.

Killua’s head hung low, unwilling to look at Gon, hiding behind the fringe of his bangs.

Tentatively, Gon reached out and gently set a shaking hand on the cool silk of Killua’s tangled white hair. “It’s okay,” he said soothingly.

Illumi knocked Gon’s hand aside immediately.

The sound of the slap startled Killua and he flinched away.

“Kil doesn’t need tenderness,” Illumi said flatly. “This isn’t about sex. It’s about power and control. It’s about pain.”

Gon swallowed the knot in his throat. He knew that—of course he knew that—but he didn’t want Killua to suffer any more than he already was.

Hisoka smirked, knelt down, and fisted his hand in Killua’s hair once again. He pulled the boy’s head back, catching a glimpse of his stricken expression as he did. “You know what you need to do to make your dear brother come,” Hisoka purred. His nails scraped through Killua's hair, scratched his scalp, dug deep, and pulled.

Killua gasped, his bloodied lower lip caught between his straight white teeth.

Illumi continued a steady pace, unfettered by all that was going on around him. He pounded into Killua like a machine, fingers cutting into his slim hips, face impassive despite the sweat gathering at his hairline and Killua's blood patterning his lower body. His black eyes were empty.

Killua's stunning blue eyes fluttered open, catching on Gon's gaze for just a second. Then, a wave of tears welled up on his long dark lashes. They gathered, glimmering like fallen stars, and then rolled down Killua's flushed cheeks. The tears ran under his jaw and hung like jewels before dripping off onto Illumi's upturned face.

For a moment, Gon thought Killua had been pushed over the edge. He thought that the pain or the shame or the violation had finally caught up to his friend. He started to reach out, intending to brush the tears from Killua's face, to offer some hollow assurance that it would be over soon.

However, in the seconds following Killua's sudden onslaught of tears, Illumi's eyes slipped shut and his mouth closed and he let a long shuddering groan between his teeth. Killua shivered all over, goosebumps breaking out on his pale skin. Illumi dug his fingers into Killua's hips, grinding him down onto his shaft as he spilled inside his brother.

The sick bastard, Gon realized. It was the sight of Killua's tears—of Killua crying—that brought him to orgasm.

“Bravo,” Hisoka remarked. He twisted his seed through Killua's soft hair, tangling it beyond repair, jerking his head back by the roots. Then, he pushed Killua’s head away like he was discarding trash.

Killua swayed, still impaled on Illumi, his shaking hands braced on the ribbon of bare skin between Illumi’s open shirt.

Illumi finished and his eyes opened with a snap. He stood up easily, long legs coiling underneath him, and dumped Killua’s naked body onto the hard ground without a word.

Killua didn’t make a sound when he struck, even though a bent root speared into his hip. He quickly arranged his body into some semblance of protection, even though he wasn’t in any condition to fight. He didn’t quite cover himself, merely pulled his legs in close and left his arms at his sides. Blood pooled beneath him.

Horror clogged Gon’s throat.

Illumi towered over his brother and then made a show of adjusting his bloodied clothes.

Hisoka seemed to be wearing his as a badge of honor, smirking down at Killua and Gon.

“Killua,” Gon began, though he had no idea what he would say.

“Oh,” Hisoka interrupted as he eyed the spreading blood. “Look at that. We ripped you a little.”

Gon's heart skipped, sputtering like a dying thing in his chest.

Killua's jaw was clenched, the tendons standing out with strain. “Yeah, no kidding,” he managed.

“I'll patch you up with Bungee Gum,” Hisoka said as though he was bestowing a favor. “We wouldn't want you to die, after all that.”

Illumi watched, his black eyes fathomless and unreadable, as Hisoka gestured for Killua to turn around once again. Gon wanted to protest, to insist that the last thing Killua needed was Hisoka’s help, but there was so much blood on the ground and dripping out of Killua even in the few seconds since Illumi had finished with him. Killua appeared to realize it too. Shakily, he wrestled to his feet, turned his back towards Hisoka, and spread himself once again. He kept his eyes on the ground, unable to look at Gon.

With a grin, Hisoka pressed his fingers into Killua's aching body. It seemed unnecessary for him to press first two, then four fingers inside Killua’s blood-slick passage. He spread Killua open again, smoothing the pads of his fingers along Killua's insides as he applied the Bungee Gum. Killua shuddered, his entire body coiled like a spring, as Hisoka did so. He looked as though he wanted to retch or run.

“He’s doing you a kindness, Kil. Don't stiffen up,” Illumi warned. Then, he stuck a needle into Killua's side without warning.

Killua yelped, twisting away from the bright spot of new pain.

Hisoka's fingers pulled at his muscles, stretching him wider.

Gon opened his mouth to shout.

Killua stopped abruptly, his blue gaze darting between the two predators feasting on him.

“There you go,” Hisoka said finally. He withdrew his hands and dragged his tongue over his knuckles. “It'll wear off on its own in a week or two, but let me know if you want me to remove it sooner or,” his sharp gaze raked up Killua's naked back, “reapply it.”

“Fat chance,” Killua ground out. He turned quickly to face Illumi and Hisoka.

Illumi flicked another needle into Killua’s ribs.

Gon tried to grab it before it struck, but was too slow.

Killua’s sapphire eyes darted to his brother’s jet-black gaze. He stood carelessly in the puddled blood and ruined clothes on the forest floor, his white skin glowing in the sunlight. Bruises already stood out on his hips, black and purple where Hisoka and Illumi had painfully gripped him. His thighs were speckled with drying blood, his pale hair was a wreck, and his lower lip was split where he had bitten it to stifle his sounds. Gon wanted to step in front of him, to shield his friend however he could, but he didn’t quite dare.

The air crackled with tension.

Illumi’s aura wasn’t murderous, but it was hungry. He hadn’t had enough—he hadn’t taken enough. His black gaze strayed from Killua’s nudity to Gon’s torn clothes.

Killua tensed, his ankles shifting beneath his weight.

“Come now, Illumi,” Hisoka said cheerfully, as though he couldn’t feel the sparks in the air. “We said we'd let them go once we were satisfied.”

Illumi stared at Killua for a moment longer before blinking and turning away. The loss of his attention was like a bright light being turned off. “Fine,” he relented. “See you around, Kil.” Illumi stepped off the path and vanished into the undergrowth within seconds. Even his aura had disappeared completely, as though he had never been there at all.

Gon glanced at Killua, at the two golden needles jutting from his naked side, at the damage inflicted on him while Gon had just watched. No, it was real—it had happened.

Hisoka thrummed deep in his chest. “Well, I suppose I’ll take my leave, unless you’d like to go another round.”

Killua bristled, his eyes dark and cold. “No way,” he bit out.

Hisoka shrugged and casually turned down the path. He headed back the way they had come, walking leisurely and pausing to smell the panda lilies without a care in the world. Killua and Gon stared after him, unmoving, until he finally disappeared from view. Tension still rode high in Killua’s shoulders, knotted in his back and hands. Gon read his concerns and stood at his side on high-alert until the birds started singing again the way they did after a storm.

XXX

Questions, comments, concerns? 


	2. Take Care

How'd everyone do? Ready for the comfort?

XXX

Immediately after Hisoka was out of sight, the fight went out of Killua. He crumpled to his knees in the ruin of his clothes, bracing himself on his hands. His shoulders curved up around his ears, pulling tight like a shelter. He finally gave in and covered himself, squeezing his thighs together and cupping a hand over his vulnerable flesh. His fingers shook as he removed the needles in his side, flinging them into the foliage in disgust. Fresh blood beaded on the punctures, welling up and rolling slowly down the curve of his ribs.

Gon’s eyes welled with tears at the sight. Though Killua’s clothes had been destroyed and they carried no others, Gon could still share what he was wearing. Quickly, he shrugged out of his green jacket and kicked off his shorts. The waistband had been cut by Hisoka’s card and they were probably the wrong size, but it was still better than nothing. Gon draped his jacket over Killua’s bare shoulders and offered him the shorts.

“Don’t,” Killua protested softly. “I’m all bloody. I’ll just get them dirty.”

Gon’s heart squeezed. After everything Killua had just gone through to protect him, he was more worried about Gon’s clothes? “I don’t care about that,” Gon insisted. “Killua, please.”

Killua hesitated only a moment longer before accepting. He shakily got to his feet and Gon was quick to offer his shoulder for support. Killua stepped into the torn shorts and hitched them up over the hideous bruises and blood on his hips. He held the rip shut with one hand, the jacket dangling off his shoulders. Gon had always known that Killua was a little smaller than he was—narrower in the hips and shoulders, thinner around the ribs, svelte and sleek like a panther—but seeing his clothes hanging off Killua’s body was almost more than he could bear.

“Let’s go,” Gon said softly.

Killua took a halting step.

Though Killua’s naked skin was nothing Gon hadn’t seen already, this felt different. Killua was exposed, vulnerable, open like a wound or frayed nerve. Gon wanted to wrap him up and carry him away, but he doubted Killua would allow that. “Do you want to go back or keep going?” Gon asked softly. “We’ll go to an inn right away.”

Killua stiffened, his eyes darting backwards over his shoulder. Hisoka had gone back towards the town they had just left. Forward was better, though they had no idea where Illumi had disappeared to. “Let’s keep going,” he managed. “We must be almost there.”

Gon’s eyes strayed to the wound on Killua’s ribs, to the needle marks Illumi had left at his throat and shoulder and in the bend of his soft elbow. His eyes prickled, but he fought them back. If Killua wasn’t crying, then Gon wouldn’t either. He could be strong too—for Killua, the way Killua was for him, the way Killua needed right now. “What do you want to do when we get there?” Gon asked instead. “Go to the hospital?”

“No!” Killua protested sharply.

Gon winced at the ferocity in his voice. “But…”

“I just want to get cleaned up,” Killua said quickly. He laboriously pushed his arms through the sleeves of Gon’s borrowed jacket. He pinched the fabric together at the middle, hiding his brutalized skin. He awkwardly began kicking dirt and rocks over the evidence of his assault, covering up the blood and tattered clothing.

“I’ll run you a bath,” Gon offered as he quickly joined Killua’s endeavor. Soon, they had the blood and remnants hidden in the brush alongside the path.

“Yeah,” Killua murmured as he wrenched his eyes from the faint dark ring of his spilled blood. “That’d be nice.” Then, barefoot, Killua started to walk. He winced almost immediately, knees pulling tight and hips canted awkwardly from the pain. His back went rigid even as a full-body tremor worked through him.

“I can carry you,” Gon said quickly. He came up at Killua’s side, looking at him urgently.

“I can’t,” Killua murmured, “ride piggy-back right now.”

The fact that he even admitted his agony only made Gon’s heart twist further. “I can carry you in my arms,” he offered.

Killua glanced at him, blue eyes wet and dark and unreadable. He was clutching the jacket and the torn shorts together, hiding as much of his skin as he could, but Gon’s borrowed shorts were short on Killua, revealing the long expanse of his blood-splattered thighs.

Gon stared resolutely back at him, hoping that Killua would find whatever he needed to in his gaze.

“Okay,” Killua relented finally.

Gon forced himself not to smile. This wasn’t a victory. This was Killua admitting that he couldn’t go on.

Before Killua could change his mind, Gon stepped close, swept one arm beneath his knees and the other around his back, and lifted him off his feet. Killua’s face strained with pain at the movement, but then he sucked in a hard breath and settled in Gon’s grasp. He turned his head into Gon’s chest, his cheeks and the tips of his ears going pink with shame. Gon didn’t comment, neither to reassure nor to soothe. He worried that if he spoke, it would break the spell. Instead, he held Killua firmly and started to walk through the forest.

Somehow, the fact that the day was beautiful and the birds were singing seemed like an affront to what Killua had just gone through.

Gon walked steadily, pacing himself now that he was carrying Killua. It was more difficult to carry him in his arms than on his back, but Gon wasn’t going to give Killua a chance to notice that. He was sure that if Killua knew, he would insist on walking despite his pain. Instead, Gon focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Roots and bumps tried to trip him up, but he maintained his balance. The last thing he wanted was to risk dropping or jostling his precious cargo.

Killua kept his head turned into Gon’s tank top, hidden beneath the fringe of his tangled white bangs. Gon would have thought he was asleep if not for the way his fingers were still twisted in a white-knuckled grip on his borrowed clothing. He shuddered occasionally and his body was tense in Gon’s arms.

Gon kept walking, the once-sweet perfume of the panda lilies making him sicker and sicker. He was tempted to tuck his face down into Killua’s knotted hair and torn skin, but he worried even more about what scent he would find there. Gon focused on walking instead. He listened to the wind and the birds and Killua’s hitched breathing each time he stumbled or adjusted his grip.

Thankfully, they had been over halfway through the woods when Hisoka and Illumi had set upon them. By the position of the sun, Gon estimated that he had walked carrying Killua for almost two hours before the forest began to give way to a bustling town. Gon melted into the crowd, hoping no one would look too hard at the damage on Killua’s body or the fact that Gon was only wearing his underwear, a tank top, and boots. He moved swiftly through the plaza, scoping out stalls that sold food and bandages and clothes while he searched for the inn.

He located a large three-story manor that had been converted into an inn after only a few minutes of searching. Much of the original woodwork and style from a bygone age remained. Gingerbread trim dripped from the eaves and gables, colorful and cheerful. The windows were curtained with white lace and there was a large round panel of stained glass sparkling into the foyer. The furniture cluttering the parlor looked comfortable through the open front door and the smell of fresh laundry drifted from inside. It looked clean, it seemed safe.

“Killua,” Gon said gently. “We’re at the inn. Do you want to walk?”

Killua uncurled his fingers from Gon’s jacket inch by inch and then said, “Yeah.”

Gon set him gently on his feet, wincing as the blood rushed back into his arms and fingers. He had been gripping Killua so tightly and he hadn’t even noticed.

Killua staggered slightly on the cobblestones, but his face gave nothing away as he straightened his borrowed clothes and scratched some of the dried blood off his exposed thighs. There was still so much of it though, splattered on his legs and bare feet. “Let’s go,” Killua said when Gon looked at risk of staring worriedly at him forever. “I need a bath.”

“Right,” Gon agreed.

There was a kind-faced woman behind the check-in counter, reading a worn book. She hustled around to greet them when she saw Killua making his way haltingly up the front steps with Gon hovering a step or two behind him. “Do you need directions to the hospital?” she was quick to ask.

“No, thank you,” Gon told her. He awkwardly glanced at Killua’s bare legs while he rummaged in his pockets before remembering that Killua was wearing his pants. “We’re okay. We’re Hunters. Killua, I need my license.”

Killua startled and then began sifting through Gon’s pockets. He handed it over without meeting the woman’s eyes.

“Oh my,” the woman said slowly. She appeared to be trying quite hard not to stare at them. “Then, what can I do for you?”

“We just need to get cleaned up,” Gon told her. “We’ll take a room.”

She nodded and carefully circled back behind the counter. She booked the room quickly and then reached over to hand Killua the key and Gon’s license. “Right up the stairs, last door on the right, Room 202. There should be plenty of hot water at this time of day and I’ll bring you some extra towels.”

“Thank you,” Gon said to her.

Killua nodded, a quick dip of his pointed chin in gratitude. Then, he turned and began climbing the stairs. Gon hastened after him, hands wavering without touching Killua’s back or side. He wasn’t sure if his support would be appreciated just now. Climbing the stairs felt like it took years, but finally they were out of the woman’s sight and alone in the upstairs hallway.

“Killua,” Gon began.

“I’m fine,” Killua interrupted. Gripping the key tightly, he continued down the hall, plugged the key into the door, and let them both in.

The room was pleasantly-decorated and smelled clean, but Killua didn’t waste time looking it over. He crossed the room quickly and reached to close the curtains. However, at the window, he hesitated. “Do you think everyone can tell?” Killua’s voice was small and out of focus. He stared at the street below, his white hand frozen in the act of sweeping the lacy curtains shut.

“Tell what?” Gon asked.

Killua jolted, as though he hadn’t realized he was speaking out loud. “Do you think everyone can tell what I let them do to me?”

Gon twisted his hands, clammy sweat building on his skin. “Killua,” he said softly. “You didn’t let them—”

“Didn’t I?” Killua snapped. “I could have fought harder. I could have tried to get away. I could have done anything, but I didn’t. I just—”

“You could have let them have me,” Gon interrupted.

Killua’s voice didn’t halt—it died. His lips opened and closed a few times, but only the sound of his labored rattling breaths emerged. “No,” he managed finally. “That was never an option.”

“Then do you think people can tell what I did?” Gon asked. “Do you think they can tell that I just stood by and watched my best friend being torn apart right in front of me? Do you think I could have fought harder to help you? I could have gotten free of Hisoka’s Bungee Gum if I had broken my arm.”

“No, Gon,” Killua insisted. “Bungee Gum is—”

“Then it’s not your fault either,” Gon said sternly. “If there’s nothing I could have done, then there’s nothing you could have done either. Okay?”

The muscles in Killua’s jaw stood out as he ground his teeth, but he didn’t protest further. He turned his attention back out the window, staring at the busy street below for a long minute. Then, sharply, he snapped the curtains closed on the world and turned away. He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door with a slam.

Gon heard the water start up and then nothing else. He gnawed his lip for a moment, debating whether he should stay at Killua’s side or go out and get supplies. Finally, he decided that Killua would probably rather have clean clothes than Gon’s fussing outside the bathroom door. He pocketed his license and set back out in his underwear, giving the puzzled innkeeper a wave as he left.

Killua had his back against the bathroom door, trying to breathe through the spearing pain in his middle when he heard Gon leave. Half of him was happy that Gon wouldn’t be nearby to hear him break down while part of him—some fragile, needy, weak part—wished that Gon had knocked on the door and called his name. Killua went to bite his lip to stifle his emotions and was reminded sharply of the split his teeth had made earlier. The pain was nothing compared to what speared through his core, but the tang of blood was harsh and bitter.

Shakily, Killua pushed off the bathroom door and stripped off Gon’s jacket. He folded it reverently, laying it on the countertop next to the sink. Then, he let go of the ripped waist of Gon’s shorts and let them fall. Already, flecks of dried blood were gathering at his feet and on Gon’s clothes. He would need to wash them, but what would he wear if they were wet?

Folding the shorts too, Killua refrained from looking at himself in the mirror and started up the shower. The pipes rattled and disgorged cold water before slowly warming. The bathroom filled with steam, fogging the mirror and giving everything a close dreamlike quality that Killua was grateful for. Naked, he stepped into the shower the moment it was at a bearable heat and buried himself beneath the spray.

He braced his hands on the cool tiled wall and let the warm water pour down over his head and shoulders. It ran down his back, down his legs, over the reamed-open portion of his body that he couldn’t quite bring himself to touch. Killua’s eyes felt stuck open, staring at the pink-and-brown water that swirled down the drain. He just stared, watching until it was almost clear.

There was a light knock at the door.

Killua tensed, his fingers curling into fists. Was it the innkeeper? Or Illumi? Or Hisoka? He had no sense of how long he’d been standing beneath the spray, trying to wash both visible and invisible filth from his skin. Water dripped off his lank hair and into his stinging eyes.

“Killua?” came Gon’s voice through the door. “I’m back. I’ve got the extra towels and I bought you some new clothes.”

A little breath rushed out of Killua, relief and sorrow, disgust and gratitude. Gon was okay, Gon was still with him, Gon wasn’t leaving after what he had seen.

“Killua?” Gon called again. “Can I come in?”

The hot water was beating down on Killua’s head, making him shiver. His skin was oversensitive, raw and scraped from the inside out. There was still dirt and blood caked on his feet and between his toes.

Gon knocked again, asking, “Killua?”

Killua couldn’t answer. He couldn’t speak. He was worried if he opened his mouth, he would start to cry and he wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Killua,” Gon said finally. “I’m coming in.”

The bathroom door eased open noiselessly. There was a ribbon of new light and a gust of cooler air from outside before the door shut again. Through the heavy cloth curtain, Killua couldn’t see even the shape of Gon and the pounding water muffled all but the smallest of sounds. Gon’s tanned fingers flirted with the edge of the curtain. He didn’t pull it back, but he did slide a bottle into Killua’s view.

“I bought bubble bath,” he said. “It smells really good. Do you want to take a bath?”

Killua stared at the bottle. It was glass and pretty with a peach-colored soap inside. He wasn’t sure what it would smell like, but he knew it would be nothing like panda lilies or blood or sweat. He wanted to dissolve into it and swirl down the drain, but… how could he deserve that? He had given himself to Illumi and Hisoka. He had done it to protect Gon, yes, but in all his life, he had never willingly submitted the way he had today.

“Killua?” Gon murmured. “I’m going to pull back the curtain, okay?”

Killua stiffened. No, he didn’t want Gon to see—

Gon pulled the curtain back slowly. Light slanted over Killua’s naked body and haloed around Gon’s head. For a moment, they just stared at each other. Gon’s hand was still proffered, holding the bubble bath, the other sweeping back the curtain. Killua’s fists were braced against the tiled wall, his claws threatening to come out and gouge holes. He hadn’t done anything to wash himself, merely stood beneath the shower without moving. Though the water running off him was almost clear and the bleeding had stopped thanks to Hisoka’s Bungee Gum, Killua still felt filthy and vile, used and foul. His eyes burned, dark lashes soaked, pale hair dripping in his face.

“Killua,” Gon said gently. He released the shower curtain, letting it drop to block some of the light. He was still standing there, in full view of Killua, looking at him with earnest honey-brown eyes. “Let me run a bath, okay? You’ll feel better.”

Killua didn’t protest as Gon adjusted the taps and started the porcelain tub filling. The pummeling showerhead sputtered to a stop and Killua stood in the ankle-deep water, shivering as his heated skin cooled. Gon set the bubble bath on the counter beside a neat bag of clothing and fluffed out a towel.

“Do you want to dry off while the tub fills?” Gon offered. “You’re going to get a chill.”

Killua didn’t protest when Gon draped the towel around his shoulders and used his grip on it to guide Killua out of the filling tub. He stood, shivering, on the bathmat at Gon’s mercy.

“Can you sit?” Gon asked. “Or does it hurt too much?”

Killua’s throat closed. The pain was nothing—he had been through so much worse. His family—Illumi—had taken great pains to make sure he could withstand the cruelest tortures, but violation was a special treat. Killua hadn’t been opened up there often. When he was, he had always fought and protested. He had never submitted willingly… until now.

“Killua?” Gon’s hands were gentle as he shifted Killua around by the fluffy towel. He guided him to at least lean against the vanity while the tub filled. “Do you want to treat your other injuries? Like the needles?”

Killua shook his head. Illumi’s needles hadn’t struck anything vital and the pinpricks were no longer bleeding. Cold water dripped off his sodden hair.

“Okay,” Gon said softly. He uncorked the bottle and poured a ribbon of the peach-colored soap into the stream of water. Immediately, more bubbles than was strictly sensible began to gather in the tub. The scent of something fruity and sweet filled the bathroom, banishing the stink of panda lilies and suffering.

Killua breathed deeply for the first time in hours.

“It smells good, right?” Gon said conversationally.

Killua could only nod.

“It’s supposed to be kiwi-peach,” he told Killua. “But there’s mint and aloe in it too. It’s supposed to make your skin feel better. At least, that’s what the shopkeeper said.”

Killua moistened his lips to speak, but couldn’t think of anything to say. He stared at the tub, watching the water level rise and the bubbles increase. He shivered in the damp bathroom, goosebumps rising along his skin. Gon reached to touch him, as though to rub heat and friction into his skin, but hesitated. Killua looked away. He was disgusting now, unworthy of Gon’s touch, he knew—

Gon set his hand gently on Killua’s shoulder over the towel. “It’s ready. Why don’t you get in and I’ll wash your back?”

Killua loosened his grip on the towel and set it on the vanity beside Gon’s soiled clothes. He stepped into the water and sank down gratefully, almost submerging himself immediately. The warmth and the scent and the bubbles hiding his brutalized skin helped immensely. Killua was able to bring himself to start washing, using his palms to sluice the lingering dirt and blood from his legs.

Gon knelt beside the tub, a clean white washcloth in his hands. “Lean forward,” he said softly.

Killua did, the water sloshing around him.

Gon worked the cloth busily until it was richly-lathered with scented soap. Then, he started at the base of Killua’s neck and began to carefully scrub his way down. Hisoka’s seed had dried to a crust that clung to Killua’s back and some stubborn blood was caked on Killua’s lower spine. Gon washed it all away, scrubbing Killua’s reddened sensitive skin as hard as he dared. He didn’t want to hurt Killua, but leaving the evidence of the brutal assault couldn’t be helpful either. Once Killua’s porcelain-pale skin was clean, he gave in and tentatively placed his bare palm on Killua’s shoulder.

Killua breathed in sharply, stiffening under Gon’s hand, but he didn’t pull away or protest. His head was turned down, lank hair hiding his expression.

“Is this okay?” Gon asked. The last thing he wanted to do was make Killua think he didn’t have any control over his body, over who touched it and how, but he so desperately wanted to offer comfort to his friend. “Killua?”

“You don’t have to,” Killua managed.

“Have to?” Gon repeated. Killua’s skin was warm and soft under his palm, prickled with goosebumps that rose in the wake of Gon’s thumb stroking over the joint at the bend of his bowed head.

“Touch me,” Killua continued. “You don’t have to… I know what you saw.” He went to bite his lip, tasted blood, and stopped. “You must think I’m…” Killua’s voice pitched low, almost a whisper, a confession, “disgusting.”

Gon’s heart sputtered like a dying thing in his chest, like a bird knocking against glass, shuddering over and over as it tried to escape. He felt shattered, chipped against the iron barrier of Killua’s thoughts regarding himself. His fingers tightened convulsively around Killua’s shoulder. He wanted to shake him, to shout, to splash the warm bathwater into Killua’s face and into his brain until it washed away all the terrible things Illumi had done and said. Instead, he forced himself to take a deep breath and tugged at Killua’s shoulder until he turned his head to face Gon.

Killua’s eyes were wet and his expression was caught somewhere between stone-faced and heartbroken. He moved his hands beneath the water, smoothing away the blood and grime of his assault mechanically.

“I would never think that,” Gon said sternly. “I would never think you were disgusting, not after what happened, not after anything. Killua, you are the best person I know. You’re my friend and nothing will ever change that.” Gon wanted to talk forever, to tell Killua all the things he loved about him, to reassure him that his family was terrible and mean and cruel and that none of that would ever stain Killua’s skin. He wanted to, but he could see color blossoming high in Killua’s cheeks. Killua embarrassed easily and when he was embarrassed, he either shut Gon out or he fled. Gon didn’t want that to happen now.

Instead, he purposefully let his palm slide down Killua’s strong arm, dip into the warm water, and reemerge with Killua’s fingers tangled with his. He didn’t say anything, simply held tight. Killua stared at the place where they were connected for a long moment, visibly fighting himself. He made to bite his lip, took a deep breath instead, fidgeted, looked at Gon’s hand, made to loosen his hold, and then didn’t. Finally, Killua relaxed in the water. He leaned over, his ribs pressing against the side of the tub where Gon knelt. He held Gon’s hand lightly, hesitantly, and tentatively moved the pads of his fingers over Gon’s knuckles.

The water was getting cool and the bubbles were beginning to pop.

“Do you want to get out?” Gon offered.

Killua said, “Yeah.”

Gon didn’t let go of Killua’s hand and awkwardly craned his back to reach for a fresh towel. Killua got shakily to his feet, water sluicing off his skin. Bruises had settled and matured on his hips, leaving rich plum and red-centered marks where Hisoka and Illumi had dug in their fingers. However, the blood and dirt had finally been washed from Killua’s body and he smelled clean. Gon fluffed the towel around Killua’s shoulders, drawing it shut against Killua’s chest with his free hand.

Killua stood, his face lowered and his hair dripping. “Thanks,” he murmured.

Gon smiled. “I got clothes too. You can get dressed.”

A shadow of a smile flickered across Killua’s face. “You bought clothes for me? Are they anything like what you usually wear?”

“What’s wrong with what I wear?” Gon asked incredulously, as though he didn’t regularly wear short-shorts and half a jacket.

Killua’s lips quirked with amusement, but he didn’t answer. He opened the top of the paper bag and began digging inside. Gon had purchased some new green shorts for himself along with a clean t-shirt, underwear, and socks. Folded neatly at the bottom, Killua found the darker clothes that he preferred. Gon had gotten him some dark shorts, a violet long-sleeved shirt, a plain t-shirt, underwear, socks, and some new shoes. Gratefully, Killua pulled them out of the bag and smoothed them along the countertop. The material was soft and smelled clean. Killua dried himself briskly, rubbing down his arms and legs while avoiding where he hurt the most. Then, he tugged the underwear up over his hips and the shirt over his bare chest. He shivered when the fabric touched his skin.

“Is it good enough?” Gon asked. “I can go back out if you want something else.”

“It’s fine,” Killua assured Gon as he finished dressing. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” Then, he dropped the towel over his head and vigorously began drying his hair. When he finished, he couldn’t help but notice how fluffy his locks had gotten in the mirror.

Gon’s eyes were large and eager, staring at Killua like he was something he desperately wanted to pet. However, Gon didn’t blurt anything. Killua found a brush in the bottom of the bag along with some bandages and toiletries. He smudged some moisture off the mirror and began ripping the brush through his tangled hair with a hiss.

“Killua!” Gon half-shouted in alarm, startling him. He grasped Killua’s hand at the wrist and pulled the brush away. “Stop that.”

“What? I’m combing it.”

Gon removed the brush from his hand. “You’re ripping it out. Here, let me.”

Killua regarded Gon. “I can brush my own hair.”

“Please?” Gon asked simply.

Killua, despite everything, was not in a place where he could deny his friend. With a long-suffering sigh, he relented, “Fine.”

“Come out into the room so you can sit on the bed,” Gon insisted. He took Killua by the hand and led him out into their rented room.

The sudden smell of food tantalized Killua’s nose, wrapping around him tightly, and his stomach growled despite the nausea still roiling inside him. He sniffed audibly, looking around for the source and spotting a white pastry bag on the sideboard beside the bed.

“We’ll eat after,” Gon promised. “Can you sit?”

Killua eased down on the bed, letting the mattress take the pressure off his aching midsection.

Gon clambered onto the bed behind him and knelt down with the brush in hand. He admired Killua’s soft white tresses for a moment, wishing he was finally getting to touch them under better circumstances. Then, he started with the hair at the back of Killua’s neck. He worked the brush through a few tangles and then smoothed his fingers through the fine satiny strands.

Killua tensed for a moment, recalling how only hours before, Hisoka had used his hair as a handle to jerk his head around, to force him to look at Gon, while they… Gon dragged his thumb over the nape of Killua’s neck, smoothing the tangled hairs he found there. A bead of water slipped off and soaked into the collar of Killua’s shirt. He shivered.

“Sorry,” Gon said, “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Killua said. “I’m fine.”

“Good.”

Gon worked his way steadily through Killua’s matted locks, freeing the hair in sections from brutal tangles. He loosened some knots with his fingers before working them out with the brush. Hisoka had done a number on the fine strands, using every element of Killua’s body to inflict pain. Gon redoubled his gentleness, taking care to touch Killua tenderly and soothe away the memories of being assaulted.

Slowly, bit by bit, with each knot that Gon smoothed, he felt Killua’s tense body relax by fractions. Soon, his head was lolling into Gon’s hands like an overgrown feline, pressing and turning to get Gon’s fingers right where he wanted them, chasing more of the casual pain-free caresses that Gon offered. Gon slowly set aside the brush and lost all pretense of continuing to comb Killua’s satiny hair. Instead, he slipped his fingers through the damp soft strands and then dragged them through his hands like water. Killua shuddered, a full-body tremor working its way from the source of Gon’s touch down into his chest.

Gon rubbed the pads of his fingers into Killua’s scalp, delighting in the little hum of pleasure that escaped Killua’s lips. If he could do anything to take even a little of the suffering from Killua’s shoulders, he wanted to do so. Gon stroked Killua’s soft hair through his hands for what felt like minutes. Killua’s body relaxed more and more, sinking into the mattress drowsily. Though Gon knew Killua was hungry, part of him hoped that he could ease his friend down and that Killua would get some much-needed rest.

However, once he moved away slightly to make room for Killua to recline on the bed, those blue eyes snapped to alertness and he sat up straight. He turned slightly to look at Gon, a pink flush sitting high on his cheeks.

“Want to eat?” Gon asked, rather than let Killua dwell on his embarrassment.

“Yeah,” Killua agreed.

Gon fetched the paper bag and opened it to reveal two flaky pastries filled with fragrant meat and spices. He had also purchased two chocolate donuts with a thick creamy frosting and cute curls on them, but he kept them aside as a surprise for now. He handed Killua the pastry, mourning that it wasn’t as warm as it had been, but Killua didn’t seem to notice. He ate slowly, his eyes far-seeing as he nibbled into the filling.

“Killua?” Gon asked, worried that his friend would drift away and never come back.

Killua’s sapphire eyes returned easily to Gon’s face, blinking with tiredness. “Yeah?”

“Nothing,” Gon said with a faint smile. “Do you want dessert? I got something chocolaty.”

Killua perked up slightly, polishing off the last bite of his early-dinner.

Gon revealed the chocolate treats in their neat box.

Killua’s face lit up and then sobered. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Killua?” Gon asked, puzzled by Killua’s sudden drop in emotion. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Killua murmured. “I just want…”

“What?” Gon asked. “If there’s anything I can get you, I’ll do it right now.”

Killua fidgeted on the bed, his weight shifting awkwardly. His lips tightened with a flash of pain.

Gon noticed bruises and scrapes on his knees, the skin pink and tender now that Killua was clean. His mouth went dry at the stark reminder.

“I don’t like it,” Killua managed finally.

Gon looked back at his friend’s face. “What?”

“Hisoka’s nen,” Killua muttered. He gnawed his lower lip, teeth digging and digging into the chapped split skin. “I don’t like knowing his nen is inside me.”

Gon swallowed, his throat tight. He wanted to touch Killua’s wounded mouth, to stop those teeth from biting, from inflicting more pain on Killua. He wanted to offer comfort, to tell Killua that it was over, to say that the Bungee Gum would fade in time, to say that he could take another bath—like the water and soap would ever manage to wash away what Killua had gone through.

Killua’s fingertips morphed into claws, to blunt fingertips, and back again. He looked like he was about to start tearing at himself with those deadly-sharp nails.

“Don’t,” Gon managed finally. “Please, Killua, just leave it. It’s keeping your insides together.”

Killua stiffened, the moon-pale hairs along his neck and arms standing on end. “I don’t want anything else of them inside me,” he bit out, bristling on the bed.

“I know,” Gon murmured.

“There’s enough of them inside me,” Killua snarled. “And now—”

Gon didn’t speak.

Killua thrashed on his feet, an abortive movement that looked as though he wanted to pace, but couldn’t bring himself to move. He stood, quivering on his toes, beside the bed. “I don’t want to feel it anymore,” he said. “I don’t like it inside me.” Killua’s shoulders jerked tight, as though someone had snapped a wire along his spine. He stiffened, jaw clenched, blue eyes wild. “I want it out!” His claws unsheathed in an instant, piercing, lethal, aimed inwards at himself.

Gon didn’t think. He just acted, throwing himself between Killua and more pain. “Killua, don’t, please!”

Killua froze.

Gon squeezed Killua as tightly as he dared. He didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t want to upset him, didn’t want to make this any worse. He just wanted to do something—anything—to make Killua feel better. “Don’t hurt yourself anymore, please,” Gon whispered.

The claws retracted slowly, inch by inch. Killua’s hands were shaking violently, hovering in the space around Gon’s shoulders. Gon could see them from the corner of his eye, could see the bluish veins beneath Killua’s thin porcelain skin, could see a circle of scar around his wrist where shackles had once held him down for torture. Gods above, Killua’s family was made up of nothing but monsters. He hugged Killua tighter, wishing he could shelter him, wishing he could have done anything to help while Killua was savaged.

Slowly, tremulously, Killua lowered his arms and then rested his hands lightly against Gon’s covered back. His touch was fleeting, as though he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch Gon now, as though he worried Gon would knock his hands away with revulsion. When Gon only held him tighter, turning his chin into Killua’s shoulder and whispering a mindless soothing sound, Killua finally collapsed.

Killua clutched Gon’s back, his blunt nails digging into the thin fabric. He sobbed, openly, brokenly, tears coursing down his cheeks and into Gon’s shoulder. He hadn’t allowed himself to make sounds while Illumi and Hisoka violated him, had only cried when it became apparent it wouldn’t be over until he did. Now, the gut-wrenching heart-breaking sobs tore through him, ripped at his organs and muscles, dragged through him like a storm ravaging the beach. He burrowed into Gon, clutching him like a lifeline.

Gon only held him, reaching to caress Killua from the top of his head down to his back, stroking the way he would comfort any wounded creature he found in the forest. He ran his fingers through Killua’s hair, over the bend of his neck, down the knobs and vertebrae of his back. He could feel Killua shivering through his shirt, trembling with sensation and need and sorrow and suffering.

It was so messed up, Gon thought, that Killua hadn’t allowed himself to show any emotion while he was being split open at his core. Something so natural had instead been forced from him. Illumi had taught Killua to hide his feelings, and then demanded them, gotten off on Killua’s pain and fear and tears. Gon winced a particularly anguished sob tore through Killua’s chest, hitching his breath and making him choke. Gon hushed him, sliding his hand through the cool silk of Killua’s hair and holding him close.

Gon lost track of how long they were crumpled together at the side of the bed. He shifted his weight slowly, making them both more comfortable by millimeters. He feared any more drastic movements would make Killua withdraw. Gon folded his legs, made a little space between them, and drew Killua into it. Clinging to Gon in his tide of overwhelming agony, Killua let himself be arranged without protest. He kept his face turned into Gon’s neck while he cried, both hands knotted in Gon’s shirt, shaking all over.

Relieved that he had resettled their position, Gon focused on comforting Killua. He kept running his hands though Killua’s hair and down his back, hushing and humming to him occasionally. The volume and ferocity of Killua’s cries diminished slowly. It felt to Gon like a lifetime of sorrow was pouring from Killua, tears that he hadn’t been allowed to shed when he was abused and tortured and poisoned and raped. Gon’s shirt was cold and damp where Killua’s face was pressed, but he didn’t make a move to so much as fetch a tissue.

Killua didn’t seem to notice the damp or the chill steadily seeping from the floor into their bodies. Slowly, he started to breathe deeper until his occasional sobs were punctuated by little tremors and shivers. Gon kept stroking his hair, his neck, his back, wherever he could reach. Killua sniffled and finally drew in a solid breath. He withdrew cautiously from Gon, his head downturned so that his eyes were hidden beneath the fringe of his bangs.

“Sorry,” he whispered lowly.

“Killua?” Gon murmured.

Something about his voice made Killua look up sharply and found Gon gazing back at him earnestly. Killua’s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, his cheeks were streaked with tear-stains, and his nose was red. Even so, Gon couldn’t help but take Killua’s face gently in his hands. He used his thumbs to smooth the lingering tears away. Then, he tugged Killua just a little closer so that their foreheads touched. Killua breathed out shakily, letting his weight press into Gon’s body.

“Thank you,” Gon said. “Thank you, Killua.”

“You’re my best friend,” Killua said quietly. “I couldn’t let them hurt you, not the way I’ve been hurt, not you too…”

“I know,” Gon whispered. “You’re my best friend in the world, Killua.”

“Idiot,” Killua breathed, but he didn’t pull away even when Gon swiped the fresh tears from his cheeks.

Gon felt like crying too. It was unfair. Killua was the most tender, kind-hearted person he had ever met, but his family had been trying to rip him to shreds since he was small. As a result, Killua’s heart was fractured and layered with walls, but when he cared about someone, he didn’t hesitate to suffer any hardship just so they wouldn’t have to. Gon had no doubts that if Hisoka and Illumi crossed them again, Killua would give his body over in an instant. Gon would have to get stronger, he decided, strong enough to protect Killua so that neither of them needed to suffer.

“Do you want to sleep?” Gon asked.

He felt Killua’s breath on his face. “Yeah.”

Carefully, Gon helped Killua stand and peeled back the covers in the bed. He guided Killua to lay down, fluffing the pillow and then fondly carding his hand through Killua’s fringe.

Killua’s huge blue eyes gazed up at him. “You’ll stay?” he murmured.

“Of course,” Gon was quick to answer. “I’ll be right here.”

Killua’s eyes slipped closed when Gon drew his soft hair out of his face. “Gon… will you…?”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Killua murmured, “Never mind.”

Gon fought a smile. “Scoot over.”

Killua’s eyes snapped wide open.

“Unless you don’t want—”

“I didn’t say that,” Killua interrupted. Painfully, he slid over on the bed to make room for Gon.

Gon flopped beside him, tugging the covers up around their shoulders and lying face-to-face with Killua. It wasn’t dark outside yet so it was easy to see the gratitude on Killua’s face. Gon couldn’t help but reach out and give his friend a squeeze, letting his hands linger on Killua’s back and shoulders. When Killua didn’t move to pull away, he settled like that, cradling Killua into him.

Killua shut his dry aching eyes and tilted his head into Gon’s chest. He had never been tended and comforted like this after his family had brutalized him. Protecting Gon, shielding him from the torments of the world, was all worth it, Killua decided. He would do it all again without a second thought, even if Gon didn’t care for him afterwards. It would all be worth it—just to stop Gon from being hurt.

XXX

Questions, comments, concerns? 


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